


toe to toe, back to back, let's go

by PinkCanary



Series: three points (where two lines meet) [4]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Bravenlarke, F/F, Multi, Polyamory, Strap-Ons, this is definitely bravenlarke even though Bellamy doesn't actually show up in it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-27
Updated: 2015-10-27
Packaged: 2018-04-28 10:47:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5087752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PinkCanary/pseuds/PinkCanary
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Of course it was weird, when Clarke really thought about it.  She and Raven had been together for nearly five years -- five years of evenings spent curled up on the sofa, watching television, or studying in companionable silence -- before the day that Clarke noticed the tattoo on Bellamy's inner arm.  Which is why <i>this</i> shouldn’t have felt so strange.  </p><p>Or, Clarke drinks too much, thinks too much, and finally comes up with a way to shut up her inner monologue.  </p><p>Honestly, Raven just wants to finish watching Mythbusters.</p>
            </blockquote>





	toe to toe, back to back, let's go

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Gohandinhand](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gohandinhand/gifts).



> So, I've spent the last month painting/installing new floors/packing/cleaning/generally freaking out. In summary: trying to sell your house is the worst. BUT. I swore up and down to several different people that I was going to write some shameless smut once I finally sold the damn house, and [gohandinhand](gohandinhand.tumblr.com) made sure I kept my promise. Also, there is definitely a line in here that is something that she yelled at me over gchat in the middle of the night and I'm not going to tell you what it is, but she'll confess to it with LITERALLY NO PROMPTING, so.... :D
> 
> Also, I tagged this as Clarke x Raven because it is just Clarke and Raven, but it is absolutely Clarke x Raven x Bellamy, just so there aren't any surprises.

“This totally feels weird, right?” Clarke asked, almost hesitantly. She was slumped down low on one end of the sofa, her feet thrown across Raven’s lap on the other end. “There is no way that this should feel as weird as it does.” 

“It’s weird.” Raven agreed. She didn’t look away from the TV as she spoke. 

Of course it was weird, when Clarke really thought about it. They had been together for nearly five years -- five years of evenings spent curled up on the sofa, watching television, or each studying in companionable silence -- before the day that Clarke noticed the tattoo on Bellamy's inner arm. 

Basically, they had this covered.

Which is why _this_ shouldn’t have felt so strange. 

Bellamy had left only thirty-six hours ago for an academic conference, and would be gone for only another twenty-four. And yet, there was something not quite right -- his pointed absence from his spot on the sofa. An episode of Mythbusters was playing on the television, but his low chuckles were missing from Raven’s heated commentary on the build-team’s schematics. 

It was officially weird.

Clarke reached over and grabbed her beer bottle off of the coffee table, taking a long pull before settling it down on her stomach, inches from her face. She started picking the label away from the glass with her fingernails. She had nearly worked all of the paper free, before she finally spoke again.

“What do you think it means, that we can’t even spend two and a half days together without missing him? I mean, we were together for five years, and now we’ve had Bellamy for one, and the apartment just feels empty without him.”

Raven sighed, and she grabbed the remote, pausing Adam Savage mid-rant. 

“I don’t think it has to mean anything, Clarke. We were together and we were happy, and now we have Bellamy, and we’re happy. But he’s just a part of this now, and it feels weird that he isn’t here.” She smirked over her shoulder at Clarke “And now you’re making it even weirder by pointing out how weird it is.” 

Clarke huffed, her breath stirring the hair that had came loose from her braid to frame her face. “How did you get to be the emotionally stable one in this relationship?”

“I just ignore anything that makes me uncomfortable, until it goes away. It’s a solid strategy.” Raven said, deadpan, and Clarke couldn’t help the laugh that slipped out of her lips. “C’mon. I’m going to get you another beer and we’ll watch shit get blown up and ignore the weirdness together.”

It was a few more beers and a few more episodes of Mythbusters (“It’s a robot shark, Clarke! How can you not be impressed by a robot shark!”) later, that an idea popped into Clarke’s head, and she had to bite her bottom lip to stop the wide grin from spreading across her entire face. She swung her legs out of Raven’s lap and onto the floor, sitting up so quickly that the room spun, forcing her to grab on to the arm of the sofa for balance. 

“You okay there?” Raven asked, her voice equal parts amusement and curiosity. 

Clarke’s fingers dug into the soft fabric of the sofa, as she waited out the sudden vertigo. _How many beers had she had? Definitely not more than three._ After a moment, the room returned to its normal stationary form, and she pushed herself up from the sofa experimentally. 

“I have an idea!” She tossed over her shoulder at Raven, even as she was already making her way down the hall towards their bedroom.

When she got to the bedroom, she dropped to her hands and knees next to the bed, lifting the corner of the messy duvet that was hanging half off of the bed so that she could rifle around underneath it. Almost immediately, she found what she was looking for (along with several socks, the pieces of a deconstructed laptop, and more dust-bunnies than she wanted to think about) and pulled it out.

Raven’s eyes followed her every move as she walked back into the living room, the box cradled in her hands. 

“Do you know what we haven’t done in awhile?” Clarke asked, a mischievous grin lighting up her face. Or, at least she _hoped_ that it was mischievous, and not simply tipsy and enthusiastic. 

Not that that wouldn’t work, as well.

And it was definitely effective. Raven threw her head back, laughing loudly, and her eyes sparkled with glee. “ _This_ is what you want to do while Bellamy is gone? And you think this will make it less weird?”

It’s not like they had purposefully _hidden_ the toy from Bellamy. Or at least not anymore than they usually hid the toy, in its normal spot under their bed. But the addition of one extra person to their relationship meant that they simply hadn’t gotten around to using anything _extra_ in a long while. 

A low chuckle escaped Clarke’s throat, as she crossed the room until she was right in front of Raven. She planted her knees on either side of Raven’s thighs, lowering herself down until she was straddling the other woman. The box was placed next to them on the sofa, freeing up her arms so that she could wrap them around Raven’s neck. 

Clarke leaned her head forward until her forehead rested against Raven’s, her lips ghosting over Raven’s as she spoke. “It’ll be fun…” She breathed, full of promise.

Raven leaned forward to close the minute distance between their lips, taking charge of the kiss, even from below. Her fingers tangled in Clarke’s hair, pulling strands out of her already messy braid. An embarrassing whimper escaped Clarke’s own throat, as Raven bit down quickly on her lower lip, before sucking gently to relieve the abused skin. 

“Of course it’ll be fun.” Raven said, smirking as she finally pulled away. One of her hands disengaged from Clarke’s hair, reaching down to pick up the box that Clarke had deposited next to her. But Clarke was too quick for her. 

“Nuh uh,” Clarke said, and she tried for commanding, but knew that she landed a bit closer to _petulant_. “Finders keepers.” 

Raven raised one eyebrow, a smirk spreading across her face. It wasn’t that Clarke hadn’t been on the _giving end_ of this particular toy in the past, but it was admittedly more of a rare occassion. Raven was generally pretty keen to take the lead, and _oh_ , Clarke loved letting her. In fact, Clarke found her eyes going blurry as her mind wandered, led by memories of Raven hovering above her, pressing her hips down into the mattress. Without conscious thought, her hips pressed closer into Raven’s, drawing a sharp inhale from Clarke’s lungs that snapped her back to the present. 

A present where Raven’s smirk had grown to obnoxious levels as she took in Clarke’s flushed cheeks and shallow breathing. _Dammit._

She just wanted to take some of that control back. “I’m going to fuck you.” Clarke whispered, her voice low and husky, and she watched from just inches away as Raven’s eyes darkened. If there was one thing that Clarke had learned in the last year with Bellamy, it was that Raven was definitely not immune to dirty talk.

Still, her face was lit up in challenge. “Then why don’t you get on with it?” She goaded, the smirk never leaving her face. 

Suddenly, Clarke couldn’t move fast enough, and she reached down to grab the hem of Raven’s tank top, tugging sharply to pull the garment up and over Raven’s head. Raven had opted to forego a bra, as she normally did when they were relaxing in their apartment in the evenings, and Clarke’s already slightly fuzzy head spun at the expanse of familiar caramel skin that she uncovered. She brought one hand up to cup one of Raven’s breasts, squeezing gently, as she lowered her mouth back down to Raven’s. Clarke was impatient, and their teeth clacked together jarringly for a moment, until Raven once again took over the kiss, deepening it confidently. 

“You think you’re in charge?” Raven asked, smug, when she finally pulled back again. 

And so Clarke did the only thing that she could do, under the circumstances. She placed her hands on Raven’s shoulders to steady herself as she stood up from the other woman’s lap, and grabbed the box as she stalked out of the living room, shedding her shirt as she went. 

Oh yeah, she was definitely in charge. 

Clarke had already stripped down to her bra and panties, and had the box open when Raven finally entered the room a couple minutes later, still dressed only in her black skinny jeans. 

“So, this is how you want to play it?” Raven asked. Her expression was one of deep exasperation, but Clarke caught the hint of amusement that she was trying to hide. 

“Dildos must know how ridiculous they look, right?” She was grasping the bulbed vertical end of the toy in one hand, as she ran her finger up the purple shaft experimentally. “I mean, they’re probably all, ‘yeah, okay’ in kind of a sad, Eeyore voice.”

Raven sighed, but Clarke was absolutely sure that she was biting her lip to keep from laughing. “Just how much did you have to drink, Clarke?”

“Enough.” Clarke answered.

“You’re lucky that you look like that, and that I’m in love with you…” Raven started to say, but she was quickly cut off.

“Stop pretending like you don’t want me to fuck you.” Clarke said, smug.

And that was one thing that Clarke was really absolutely sure of. Raven liked to be in control. Liked everyone to _know_ that she was in control. But she was also hopelessly turned on whenever Clarke decided that it was _her turn_. Raven’s breath caught in her chest, and Clarke knew that she had caught her attention.

“Take your pants off.” Clarke commanded quietly, and she felt an immediate rush of satisfaction when Raven hastened to comply, even as she quirked one eyebrow skyward, in a gesture that Clarke was only too familiar with. “Underwear, too. And then sit down on the bed.”

Once Raven was seated on the edge of the mattress, Clarke took up her previous position on the brunette’s lap. This time, however, she planted one knee between Raven’s thighs, and Raven gasped at the first contact. 

“Oh yeah, you can’t even pretend.” Clarke said. She was almost surprised at just how much her voice resembled a _purr_ , as she mumbled the words into the tan skin of Raven’s neck, kissing her way towards the other woman’s shoulder. She ground her knee a little harder, and had to stifle a groan into Raven’s neck when she pressed back against her, seeking more friction.

When Clarke’s lips reached Raven’s collarbone, she took a last minute detour down the other woman’s arm. She didn’t even need to open her eyes to find the tattoo that marked Raven’s skin -- her own name across the tan flesh -- but she did anyway, tracing the letters first with her finger, and then with her lips. Raven shivered against her as she pressed one last open-mouthed kiss against the mark before moving across the narrow gap between Raven’s inner arm and her ribcage. She gave Bellamy’s name the same attention, and didn’t quite pull back before she spoke. 

“I don’t know for sure, but I think Bellamy would be into it. If you wanted to fuck him, too.” She said, low and quiet and a lot more serious than she was actually feeling right at that moment.

Raven didn’t bother to hide her own groan of appreciation, and her hips resumed their earlier rhythmic grind against Clarke’s thigh. 

“Fuck, Clarke.” Raven hissed.

“Is that what you’re asking for?” Clarke couldn’t help the smirk that slid on to her own face at Raven’s obvious reaction. She could feel how wet Raven was already; the evidence was pressed right against her leg. Raven’s eyes were half-hooded, her breathing shallow and fast. She moved off of Raven’s lap suddenly, and Raven’s hips chased her for half of a thrust, eager and desperate. “On you hands and knees,” she said, gentle but leaving no room for argument.

Not that Raven was going to argue, from the looks of it.

Clarke quickly stripped off her bra and panties, before taking the dildo out of its box once again. Her attention was caught by a flash of silver in the bottom of the box, and she felt her heart race in excitement once she realized just what it was. _Perfect._ She gave the base of the bullet vibrator an experimental twist -- the batteries were still working, miraculously -- and she chuckled gleefully once the tiny vibrator rumbled to life. 

Raven was already on her hands and knees, but she watched Clarke eagerly over one shoulder as Clarke fit the tiny silver bullet into the hole in the back of the dildo. They didn’t always use the toy with the vibrator, but Clarke was feeling giddy, her head still swimming slightly from the earlier drinks, and this just felt _right_.

 _Or maybe it didn’t feel right quite yet, but it would in just a minute_ , Clarke thought, grinning impishly at her own internal monologue. 

“How are you doing over there?” Raven goaded, with a smug grin that immediately slipped off of her face the very second that Clarke started sliding the shorter vertical arm of the toy inside herself. Clarke’s eyes slipped closed for a moment, and she groaned softly as she felt the vibrations sinking into her over-sensitive skin. She pulled the toy out and pushed it back in, fucking herself with it for a few seconds, enjoying the way that the bulb dragged inside of her in a way that made her toes curl into the sheets. It felt so fucking good that she didn’t even stop until a few seconds after Raven let out a frustrated moan. 

Clarke grinned at her girlfriend, with an expression that she was sure didn’t quite hit the level of contriteness that she was aiming for. “Sorry. It’s your turn, I promise.”

“I’m not saying that I don’t always enjoy _watching_ , but…” Raven wiggled her hips for emphasis, pushing them just a bit farther into the air.

Clarke couldn’t resist -- didn’t have to, really -- and so she ran one hand over Raven’s toned ass gently, before moving lower and sliding two fingers through her wet folds. She was slick and wet and Clarke’s fingers easily slid inside, drawing a sharp inhale from Raven.

“I don’t think it’s going to be a problem,” Clarke started, as she pulled her fingers almost all of the way out before pushing them back in again quickly, “but we have lube in the nightstand if you want it.”

“I’m good,” Raven answered, her voice low and breathy, “as long as you just get on with it.”

Clarke would have chuckled, if she wasn’t just so damn turned on by the desperation in Raven’s voice. The other woman always played a tight game, right up until she hit the point where she was ready to just _beg_ for it. 

Gently, Clarke started sliding the toy inside Raven. Slowly at first, until Raven suddenly thrust her hips backwards, sinking the toy all the way to hilt. The sudden movement grew a gasp from Clarke, as the bulb inside her moved suddenly against her walls. And for a moment, all she could do was grind mindlessly, rubbing her clit against the vibrating shaft of the double-ended toy. 

Not that Raven was complaining at all. She hissed, a low noise of surprised pleasure, and pushed backwards against Clarke, her movements urgent and searching.

“Fuck, Raven,” Clarke ground out, “stop moving for a second.”

Raven snorted, somehow remaining ridiculously attractive as she did so. “I thought this sort of thing only happened to guys.” She teased, the breathlessness of her voice ruining the effect.

Still, the pause was enough for Clarke to regain her control, and she let her hands drift down to Raven’s slim hips, gripping on to the sharp ridges of bone to steady her. After a moment, she was able to start moving, picking up a comfortable rhythm. 

And _fuck_ , the toy vibrating inside of Clarke was _good_ , but Clarke tried to push the feeling back in her mind, so that she could focus on what Raven was doing. Her breathing was harsh and loud, and every few thrusts she let out a choked _whimper_ that sent a jolt of pleasure through Clarke’s entire body. And when she dropped her upper body, hands wrapping around the bars on the headboard as her head turned to press one cheek against the pillow? 

_Fuck._

Because Raven was _always_ sexy, usually without even trying. She just exuded an easy confidence -- a protective shield that kept most people from looking any deeper than this uncomplicated first layer -- that drew people in. Smirking smiles and raised eyebrows, and an obvious intelligence that almost sparkled in her dark eyes. But _this Raven_ was even better. Clarke could almost count the vertebrae in her curved spine as she bent before her, eyes closed and mouth slightly open, allowing a low moan to slip through her parted lips.

_Submission._

_This Raven_ is one that very few people ever see and, even after six years, she still took Clarke’s breath away. 

“Harder,” Raven whimpered quietly. “I need--” 

She didn’t finish saying what she needed, but she didn’t have to. Clarke slipped one hand down from Raven’s hips, dragging her fingers over tight abdominal muscles, until she could part Raven’s drenched folds to find her clit. Her movements were clumsy and unfocused, tripping over slick skin, but Raven still groaned loudly and her hips began to thrust backwards, trying to speed Clarke’s movements. 

She could tell that Raven was close. Her hips were moving quickly, desperately, and Clarke caught part of her name, a low keening noise that escaped Raven’s throat. Clarke forced herself to keep her eyes open, so that she can watch Raven; her bottom lip was caught between sharp white teeth, and her knuckles were white as her fingers tightened against the rungs of the headboard. 

Raven’s back suddenly arched, pressing her hips higher up into the air, and her shoulders further into the mattress. And then, all at once, something snapped. A choked curse got stuck in Raven’s throat, as her orgasm hit hard. Her entire body was held motionless for just a moment, and then she was a flurry of motion: hips bucking, face turning to bury itself into the pillow, hands tightening and loosening against the headboard. 

“Fuck, Clarke, don’t stop.” She managed to choke out, after a moment, her thighs still trembling and her eyes held tightly shut, as the aftershocks wracked her body. And Clarke couldn’t even think about stopping, because her hips were moving without any conscious thought. Short rocking thrusts that pressed her own clit right into the vibrating shaft of the toy, even as the other end of the dildo bumped against her inside walls in a way that made Clarke keen with pleasure.

And, _oh_ , that noise was actually coming from her own throat, Clarke realized distantly.

Her orgasm built steadily, probably had been building steadily, but Clarke had been so distracted by Raven _beneath her_ that she hadn’t been able to focus on just how fucking good the entire thing felt. And suddenly, her hips stopped moving, so that she could press her clit down against the toy in just the right way, and her fingers dug into Raven’s hips so tightly that she was sure that she would have bruises in the morning. It’s a fucking good orgasm, the kind that made her toes curl into the mattress, and kept going even after she’s had the chance to think, “how is this still happening?” And when she finally slumped down against Raven’s back, she could feel Raven’s chuckle vibrating against her chest. 

“Don’t even.” Clarke started, but Raven interrupted her.

“I’m not saying anything.” Raven insisted, but her back still shook with silent laughter, even as Clarke rolled them both over, taking a moment to deal with the toy, before she wrapped her body around Raven from behind.

“Still feeling weird about this whole thing?” Raven asked, finally, after Clarke had actually been pretty positive that they had both fallen asleep.

“I’m mostly just feeling unconscious and concerned that I’m going to have sore muscles in some pretty strange places in the morning.” Clarke admitted, her voice sounding oddly detached, even to her own ears.

“What do you say that we just leave the toy out when Bellamy gets home, tomorrow.” Raven suggested, mischievous. 

And though Clarke didn’t answer, she couldn’t stop the smile from spreading across her face as she dropped off to sleep, her nose pressed against Raven’s neck.


End file.
